Bear Island
(1979)
It shouldn’t really be that easy to stumble across hitherto
unencountered Alistair MacLean movies. There have been fewer than 15 big screen
adaptations of his work over the years; the failure of Bear Island all but killed any continued interest in an author who
had been highly prolific during the ’60s and ‘70s. MacLean aficionados will
opine that his novels tend to be unsympathetically re-envisioned, bearing
(ahem) little resemblance to his original masterpieces, but it’s difficult to
buy into any notion that works of art are being desecrated.
MacLean churned out standard format boy’s own adventure
yarns, usually involving spies or WWII escapades, and the resulting movies are invariably
undistinguished fodder for weekend TV matinees; hence their forgettableness
(and conversely, their discoverability). Everyone is familiar with (less than)
a handful of adaptations (The Guns of Navarone, Where Eagles Dare, Ice Station
Zebra), but his heyday in the movies had passed by the early ‘70s.
Unsurprisingly, Bear Island has few
credentials plot-wise to make its case as an undiscovered gem. Nor has it assembled
an amazing cast (an idiosyncratically chosen one, certainly). But it does have something very vital going for
it. One might argue it represents merely a superficial factor if the script isn’t
there. But, in an era of CGI breath and fake snow, the movie’s accomplishment
is all the more arresting; authenticity of location.
Bear Island
features no bears, which should be made clear from the outset. The setting is
the Norwegian island of the same name, although director Don Sharp and his cast
and crew shot in British Columbia. Indeed, the film’s one claim to fame (since
no one saw it) was the adverse publicity surrounding its $9m (US) cost; up to
that point Canada’s most expensive film. It’s difficult to see why the
producers thought such an investment would pay off, other than through a
failure to recognise the shifting sands of audience interests following the
arrival of Lucas, Spielberg et al. Unlike other big budget bombs of the period,
it’s easy to see why the picture cost as much as it did; logistically, a shoot
in such conditions would not be cheap. And, in terms of vistas, the results are
all up there on screen.
Particularly during the early stages, the atmosphere created
by this vast, desolate, snowy expanse is palpable. Haunting and evocative, it
put me increasingly in mind of another film that opted to genuinely facing the
elements, also in British Columbia; John Carpenter’s The Thing. I’d be surprised if Carpenter had not seen Bear Island; he would surely have been
aware of it. Once that connection has been made, it’s easy to draw further parallels
between the two; all Bear Island
really needed was a beserk alien creature to engage the viewer, although a
beserk creature in pursuit of Nazi gold might have been a difficult motivation
to justify. Nevertheless, both pictures feature a group of difficult to
individualise scientists inhabiting a remote outpost in sub-zero conditions; some
of whom are not who they claim to be, their numbers are gradually whittled down,
they are cut off from rescue, they are increasingly subject to sabotage and the
intrusion of the elements. Certainly, during the mid-section, when a team
member goes out to check on the generator (which then explodes), I could have
momentarily forgotten which film I was watching.
Unfortunately, there is little else too make this
compelling. Sharp, who worked in a variety of British TV (The Avengers) and film (the Christopher Lee Fu Manchu series, the not-bad-at-all Robert Powell The 39 Steps the year before this)
stages the action competently, and cinematographer Alan Hume mostly ensures the
joins between the exteriors and the Pinewood sets are not too obvious. But the
premise and scenario are murky from the off. Introductions inform us this is a
collection of UN-sanctioned scientists sent to study climate change in the area
(changed from the novel, which featured a movie making crew). It sounds quite
topical, but we never see them studying anything. I’m not even clear why the
members of the party intent on plundering the gold required such a cover.
Wouldn’t they have free rein to do pretty what they wanted on this barren
wasteland (the nearby UN base seems oblivious to what’s going on)?
As soon as they arrive, Donald Sutherland’s beardy American
Lansing (Sutherland’s Canadian status may explain his unlikely action lead
duties; he reportedly took the part because he’d taken up sailing as a pastime)
wants to check out the derelict U-boat base; his daddy was a U-boat commander,
you see. Lansing effortlessly figures out what is going on, so the only
intrigue left available is who is doing what and why. Sharp and his co-writers
are so clumsy tossing frozen red herrings about it is quickly evident that anyone
who comes under suspicion can’t be the true culprit (no double double-bluffs
here). But there’s a greater problem in not really caring who is doing what and
why. There are several parties after the precious metal, but there seem to be a
greater number of faceless bystanders who never get a look in.
Reinforcing the pulpiness of the material, several of the
cast have that “I’ll appear in anything as long as it’s crap” credentials.
Richard Widmark is a Norwegian (he’d just come off The Swarm, so was clearly on a roll). Lloyd Bridges, is not yet
consciously going for self-parody, but that’s the only difference between what
he does here and the following year’s Airplane!
Sharp regular Christopher Lee is a Pole, but he’s sadly under-used. Then
there’s Vanessa Redgrave, also sporting a interesting accent, as the kind-of
love interest. It’s rather refreshing to find Redgrave and Sutherland in such
traditionally macho fare, but unfortunately their presence signifies little.
Sutherland perhaps isn’t at his best, as he requires more than a one-note hero
to bring out his eccentricities. Still, at least he gets stuck into an unlikely
bout of fisticuffs. He would return to an unwelcoming island in Eye of the Needle, another Nazi-related
picture, two years later. A very young Bruce Greenwood plays a technician, in
his movie debut.
The plot wasn’t going to stand up to scrutiny under the best
of circumstances, but the lack of distractions highlights a number of gaping
holes; no one would seriously go along with Widmark dismissing calls for
outside help, not when team members are dropping like flies. And wither the
strange decision by Sutherland and Redgrave to make off on piddly little snow
scooters, leaving the bad guys to take advantage of the much more impressive
hydro-copters?
Occasional moments suggest something much more interesting
could be done with this setting; there’s a highly impressive U-boat pen set
that is barely used. The sight of a handcuffed skeleton in a German uniform suggests
the discovery of long buried secrets; it’s rather typical of MacLean that said
secrets turn out to be boring old ingots. If the makers had veered off into something
offbeat and uncanny, Bear Island
might at least retain cult appeal. But its plotting is too unexceptional to
lend it status beyond that of a handsomely mounted, ploddingly predictable
adventure yarn.
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